


Warmed Through

by KatnapKradle



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Christmas fic, Cuddling, Ficlet, Fluff, Future Fic, Introspection, Kinda, M/M, and i've always said, be the change you want to see in the world, but what can ya do, mentions of sloth pair, there's not nearly enough content for these two, there's not nearly enough gear content in general tbh, would you believe me if i told you i'm actually known for angst, yeah i don't know what happened either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatnapKradle/pseuds/KatnapKradle
Summary: Gear can hardly recall the last time he'd smiled so much.
Relationships: Gear/Tsumugi Youtarou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Warmed Through

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place an unspecified number of years post canon.

It’s that time of the year again, when it’s cold and miserable and Gear is even _more_ of a homebody than usual, but very glad for modern amenities like central heating, food delivery, and the solid weight of Youtarou curled up on their sofa next to him.

In the privacy of their own home, with no visitors expected and no one stupid enough to disturb them at this time of night, he has no reason to hide any part of himself, and his tail flicks idly from its position near the human’s hip, curled round with the tip resting in his lap like a hug. Nestled into Youtarou’s side and head leaning against his arm, Gear feels more content than he has in ages, his mind half on the printed words from the book in his lap, and half somewhere else, attention span sapped by the dreamy sort of warmth only the comfort of a loved one pressed close can provide.

(While he loves his digital reader, he just can’t help but be drawn back to the familiar comfort to his senses a book provides. Something about manually flipping the pages, he supposes.)

Finding that he’s read and reread the same sentence no less than three times and absorbed none of it, he gives up for the moment, instead giving his full thought to appreciating the soft click of knitting needles, the crackle of a virtual fire he’s asked Alex to light for little more than appearance’s sake, and the constant, quiet humming Youtarou has been doing for the past hour while he makes yet _another_ cozy throw blanket, despite there being one already wrapped around both of their shoulders.

As if sensing his thoughts, his partner chirps that he wants to have it done by Christmas in order to send it off with their yearly card to Ash and his Eve. Gear thinks about the date and knows he won’t finish in time unless he works late into the nights, and resolves to brew extra tea in the hopes the caffeine gives the boost needed to complete the project. Already he can see the beginning of Youtarou’s favored zigzag pattern, the one that decorates their throw pillows, at least one blanket, and some of the many scarves he’s made for the two of them. 

Not for the first time he marvels at how quickly the other man can work while still retaining the quality his work is known for around their neighborhood, among others where the occasional gossip spreads.

“Don’t push yourself,” is what he says instead, reaching for his mug sitting on the table in front of them and taking a long sip from it. There’s a chip on the bottom of the handle from one too many a time he had set it down with a little too much force, and the honeyed milk with cinnamon that sloshes inside is the perfect level of both temperature and sweetness. He can see why Youtarou loved it as a child.

Their living room has such a warm glow to it, and the false firelight makes Youtarou’s moonlight silver hair shine orange with it, flickering shadows dancing across a still youthful face that he knows will one day be but a memory.

Gear’s eyelashes flutter close to his cheek. If only he would be able to take a picture without disturbing how _comfortable_ he currently is. Send _that_ to Ash, a subtle bragging over how lucky he is.

A more selfish part of him, the part that demands Youtarou stay in bed with him for just a while longer in the mornings, it's cold, stay, stay, _stay_ , don't ever leave, don't go where he can't keep you _safe_ \--

The wolf inside him wants to hide his mate away. They only have so much time.

There's been a ridiculous notion building in the back of his mind, though, a what if and a maybe and something that might be a bit like a prayer. If he could impart more of himself into something, give it to the man beside him in such a way that not even time could touch him...

“You’d make a good redhead.”

The laugh he receives in response makes him far warmer than any fire could ever hope to, and a rare smile touches his lips. 

They’re getting less rare these days.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe this was the first fic on here that focuses on these two? Me neither.


End file.
